


Stagnate

by uarejeff



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Crushes, Death, Enemies to Friends, Episode s01e04 Livewire, Episode s01e18 World's Finest, Episode s02e10 We Can Be Heroes, Episode s03e11 Fort Rozz, F/F, Hate, I rewatched all of Leslie's episodes and this is the result, Leslie deserved better, Leslie x kara if you squint, Villains to Heroes, everyone ships Barry and Leonard but no one ships Leslie and kara and that's a DAMN SHAME, identity crisis, it's the quarantines fault I'm angsty, there was romantic tension on Fort Rozz you can't change my mind, to lovers but Leslie dies whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23285866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uarejeff/pseuds/uarejeff
Summary: When Leslie thinks back to the hours of her life she spent trying to gain someone’s approval, someone’s love, she feels something akin to disgust.
Kudos: 8





	Stagnate

Leslie’s leaning back in her chair, smirking slightly, saying, “This is Leslie Willis, coming to you _live_ and _wired_ from Catco Plaza.”

(How many times did she start her broadcast like that? Why didn’t she ever realize before how much it _meant?)_

When she thinks back to her broadcasts, she always remembers a sense of _belonging._ She was doing what she wanted to do, and while she might not be _where_ she wants, exactly, it doesn’t matter because people are listening to her, people are loving her. 

(When she thinks back to the hours of her life she spent trying to gain someone’s approval, someone’s _love,_ she feels something akin to disgust.)

* * *

She’s in Cat’s office, listening to her spew some bullshit about _creating a relationship_ between Supergirl and Catco. She sets her glass of pilfered booze down on the table without a coaster just to watch Cat’s eye twitch, and she feels the familiar bubble of anger explode in her chest. It’s Thanksgiving, she can’t remember the last time she was thankful for something, and Cat is making her cover _traffic_. 

(Why didn’t Cat realize how much it _hurt_ to have her take another young, plucky blonde girl under her wing? Why didn’t Cat ever try this hard with _her?)_

* * *

She’s in the helicopter. Thunder’s booming around her, and the rain is pelting the windshield, and the pilot is saying something about turning back, but it’s too late because then there’s Supergirl and, of course, _lightning._

There’s no other way this could have gone. Everything in her life has been leading her _here,_ to this moment of electricity and rebirth.

(Leslie Willis dies, and it’s only fitting that it’s _Cat’s fucking fault.)_

* * *

She wakes up in a hospital bed, alone save for flowers gifted to her by people she’s never met, and every single atom burns.

(It hurts, it aches, it makes her breath stop, and heart stutter, and if she weren’t in public she would _weep,_ but she also feels so _deliciously_ alive.)

Leslie dies in the helicopter, and Livewire is born here, on a stiff mattress and itchy sheets, with her skin on fire and the realization that for the first time in her life, she can _do_ something about the _anger_ in her trapped in her ribcage.

* * *

She’s in Catco—no, she’s on the street—no, she’s in the plaza— _no._

She doesn’t quite remember the specifics, but she remembers the feeling of power, of making that goddamned cheerleader scream, and she remembers thinking that electricity is bright and painful and _beautiful._

(Leslie slept walked through the motions of her life, and Livewire finally woke up.)

* * *

She’s in the DEO, sitting in a glass cage that she can’t break out of. In a few days, she’ll meet Siobhan, but for now, she sits, she thinks, she stews. When she gets out, she’s going to kill Supergirl. She knows that for certain—she’s going to kill her and she’s going to make it _hurt._

(She doesn’t think she’s ever hated someone like this before—hated them so thoroughly and completely that her every thought is occupied by _her.)_

There’s a little part of Supergirl in her, a little part that made her who she is. Without her, Livewire wouldn’t exist—and that fact burns her more completely than the electricity ever has.

* * *

Cat’s handcuffed to the park bench, and her voice is shaking as she says, “I’m not asking for myself. I’m asking for my boys. I’m all they have.”

(Something tight squeezes in her throat.)

“Please don’t take their mother away from them,” Cat finishes, and still, to this day, she isn’t certain what she would’ve said—what she would’ve _done._ But Supergirl shows up with her new best pal, so in the end it doesn’t matter. 

* * *

She’s in a real prison this time, complete with a cot and fancy handcuffs, and a pool of water that they make her put her feet in when her damn court appointed therapist shows up. 

And she’s saying, “Do you know what power is, Freud? It’s the feeling of someone’s life in your hands.”

(She wonders if Supergirl feels this way when she saves someone, when she fights, when she’s called a _hero_ again and again.)

“Every atom in you, it just burns electric. It’s like kissing a frayed wire.”

(She knows Supergirl’s power comes from the sun. She wants to know if Supergirl’s cells burn this way, too. She wants to know if Supergirl feels like _fire.)_

“You know what that power makes me? A bad guy? Evil?”

(She wants to know if Supergirl’s aware of just how much she could change the world, if she only stopped caring about who she hurt along the way.)

“It makes me a _god._ ”

(It makes _them_ gods.)

* * *

She’s in some abandoned warehouse, and her chains are broken at her feet, and she can feel her power returning, gathering in her veins and pooling in her stomach and crackling around her hands. 

(Thanks to Supergirl—)

Supergirl’s on the ground, and Livewire is going to kill her, but Leslie stops and _listens,_ always so desperate for affection _—_

“We may not be allies,” Supergirl says, “but I will punish him for you.”

She doesn’t think anyone has ever cared enough about her to protect her. It always felt like fate, her and Supergirl, nemeses, but this is something different, something _new._

Leslie would have laughed, Livewire would have killed her, but right now she feels like neither of them. 

(Supergirl makes her _feel,_ and she isn’t sure she hates her for it.)

* * *

She’s outside the diner, drinking away her troubles, and she is _afraid._ Afraid of Reign, afraid of being hurt, afraid for Supergirl—

So it feels like salt in the wound when Supergirl saunters back into her life, like she knew that she was thinking about her, with that cocky fucking grin and ridiculous cape and says, “I’m here because I need your help.”

She _loathes_ Supergirl for turning her into _this,_ for turning her into the villain, for making everyone _hate_ her. 

(She hasn’t been able to get the way the people cheered when she was sprayed with water to stop ringing in her ears.) 

She hates Supergirl with every fiber of her being, and yet it’s a simple fact, and Supergirl knows it: Leslie would have laughed, Livewire would have already thrown a punch, but she, whoever she is, can’t help but say yes.

* * *

She’s on Kryptonian alcatraz, in space (space!), orbiting a blue star. Psi and Matilda are back on the ship, trying to get them home, and she’s alone with Supergirl. Alone, and Supergirl is tense, shoulders stiff, and her face bears an emotion— _fear—_ that’s foreign, that’s terrifying. And of course, _of course_ Supergirl’s grand plan is to get _through_ to Reign, when they should just _kill_ her—

“I got through to _you,_ ” Supergirl snaps. “There must be _something_ good in you that I could trust to come with me.”

(That stings far more than it should.)

“I came with you,” Livewire snarls, “because there is a maniac on the loose and I wanna take her down. If you think I wouldn’t fry you right now—”

“So do it.” Supergirl steps forward, into her personal space. 

A beat passes. Two, three.

Something tightens in her throat, something that doesn’t feel like anger or pain or electricity. 

* * *

Leslie is a child. Her parents are arguing in the room next to her, and she’s thinking that when she grows up, she’s never going to be angry like that. She’s never going to contain that type of hate, that type of rage. Where they have stagnated, she will, she _will_ continue.

* * *

She’s on Fort Rozz, and Supergirl is looking at her like she knows every thought that is passing through her head, and she’s looking at her like she hasn’t failed quite yet. 

So yes, _yes,_ a few minutes later she calls Supergirl her friend, but that doesn’t _mean_ anything, and it certainly doesn’t mean anything when she knows she’s going to die and all she can think about is how blue Supergirl’s eyes are. 

She thought her life led her to the helicopter, but she was wrong. It’s here, this moment, with Supergirl’s hand carding through her hair and a burn in her chest that’s so painful she can’t breath, her heart stutters, she would weep if she weren’t in public, and Supergirl’s _begging_ her to stay, and— 

“I guess I’m a sucker, too, huh?”

She wants to be a hero. It took her just long enough to realize that. 


End file.
